A wave
A wave is a shore’s rhythm
A soft beat on surf and sand.
A waves home is its shore
The shore will gently wash away, rebuild and repeat
And the shore that was here today might be hundreds of miles away tomorrow and replaced with a new shore
A wave has on permanent home because the shore always leaves
But waves are forever
A wave
A wave is like a beam of marvelous light
With your very eyes you see that one beam only once, but others will always find you.
Give or take they might not be as magnificent as the first beam of light, but there will always be more
The light looks like Brooklyn in the daytime
And shines down on the shore.
The shore is brushed over by the waves everyday
And the waves are made of beautiful images.
East river water is made of beautiful images
Its wet and every night the light from the glistening moon waves hello
The moon kisses the sun every dawn of the morning as it whispers goodnight
The sun has deep vibrations, anger and strong footsteps
And when it walks causes earthquakes on our very shore, making waves.
A wave
A wave doesn’t love or hate
It doesn’t give or take
It rolls over you and pushes you to shore but then pulls you back in.
No one knows why
The only reasonable answer is, that of course, it is a wave.
The waves are the oldest things on earth
They have been here since the beginning
And will stay until the end.
A wave
A wave can do so many things
It can hurt people
It can calm people
It can make people fall in love
A wave is neither friend nor enemy
And it cannot talk but you can hear it speaking to you.
It can be as wonderful as soft music
And as terrifying as a thunderstorm
A wave can be at one shore at one minute and within days be on the other side of the world
And why?
Well the only definite answer is that, of course, it is a wave.
A wave